iter at The Bull Inn, Leeds, to Mr.
Dockwrath, in that tone of doubt which seemed to carry an answer to
his own question. But Mr. Dockwrath was not a man to be put down by
a waiter. "Yes," said he. "Didn't you hear me say so?" And then the
waiter gave way. None of those lords of the road were in the house at
the moment, and it might be that none would come that night.

Mr. Dockwrath had arrived by the 8.22 P.M. down, but the 8.45 P.M. up
from the north followed quick upon his heels, and he had hardly put
his brandy and water to his mouth before a rush and a sound of many
voices were heard in the hall. There is a great difference between
the entrance into an inn of men who are not known there and of
men who are known. The men who are not known are shy, diffident,
doubtful, and anxious to propitiate the chambermaid by great
courtesy. The men who are known are loud, jocular, and assured;--or
else, in case of deficient accommodation, loud, angry, and full of
threats. The guests who had now arrived were well known, and seemed
at present to be in the former mood. "Well, Mary, my dear, what's the
time of day with you?" said a rough, bass voice, within the hearing
of Mr. Dockwrath. "Much about the old tune, Mr. Moulder," said the
girl at the bar. "Time to look alive and keep moving. Will you have
them boxes up stairs, Mr. Kantwise?" and then there were a few words
about the luggage, and two real commercial gentlemen walked into the
room.

Mr. Dockwrath resolved to stand upon his rights, so he did not move
his chair, but looked up over his shoulder at the new comers. The
first man who entered was short and very fat;--so fat that he could
not have seen his own knees for some considerable time past. His face
rolled with fat, as also did all his limbs. His eyes were large, and
bloodshot. He wore no beard, and therefore showed plainly the triple
bagging of his fat chin. In spite of his overwhelming fatness, there
was something in his face that was masterful and almost vicious. His
body had been overcome by eating, but not as yet his spirit--one
would be inclined to say. This was Mr. Moulder, well known on the
road as being in the grocery and spirit line; a pushing man, who
understood his business, and was well trusted by his firm in spite of
his habitual intemperance. What did the firm care whether or no he
killed himself by eating and drinking? He sold his goods, collected
his money, and made his remittances. If he got drunk at n